


Bristle While You Work

by marchionessofblackadder



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchionessofblackadder/pseuds/marchionessofblackadder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nuisance proves distracting when Rumpelstiltskin and Belle get into a little trouble during her chores.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bristle While You Work

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Favor Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/547168) by [marchionessofblackadder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchionessofblackadder/pseuds/marchionessofblackadder). 



> A deleted scene set after chapters one and two of Who Favor Fire.

The lonely weeks before, Belle had spent her days scrubbing floors and dusting trinkets, sweeping flagstones and beating rugs and curtains all with a quiet yet determined constitution while her master worked and tinkered away up in his lofty turreted tower, brewing potions and casting spells and fulfilling dark dealings. Some days he never came down until sunset. Sometimes she didn’t see him for the entire day, but now, at least, she had company.  
  
The warm little ball of scales lay asleep, curled up in her apron pocket for the first few days after he’d hatched, but his quick growth brought him to the size of a cat before a fortnight. He preferred perching on Belle’s shoulder or traipsing along behind her whenever she bustled about the castle. As she sat on her knees, hands and elbows red and cracked from the lye soap, working the horse hair bristle brush in a sudsy rhythm over the stone floors, her little creamy white dragon with eyes as blue as ocean drops enjoyed a dip in the clean water bucket, his tail splashing happily behind him.  
  
At first, Belle had been hesitant to let him get in, thinking it might hurt him, but in fact the little dragon enjoyed the water almost more than perching on her shoulder, even if the contrast created a steamy atmosphere like his own personal cloud. He floated like a duck, purring in reptilian satisfaction. Belle giggled whenever he shook his wings, sending cool water droplets into the air, catching her cheeks and curls.  
  
“We might have to drop you in the pond,” Belle simpered at him, sitting back on her heels.  
  
Wendell shook his wings vigorously, giving a little shriek of delight just as two hands came to rest warmly on Belle’s shoulders. She gasped, jumping, and felt a shivering giggle from above. Tilting her head back, she found Rumpelstiltskin smirking down at her, though his eyes were manic and restless, his fingers fluttering at her collar. “Having fun with the boy?”  
  
“A bit,” Belle grinned, wrinkling her nose up at him. She squirmed out from under his hands, leaning forward to wipe her rag over the clean flagstones. “I didn’t know that dragons enjoyed the water.”  
  
“Most don’t,” Rumpelstiltskin piped with forced cheer.  
  
Belle smiled, feeling his eyes like a touch dragging down her back and the length of her body. She could taste that nervous energy that possessed him so often, and she felt her own heartbeat quicken at the click of his boot heels on the stone floor as he came around to crouch near the bucket. Wendell clicked his teeth happily, bobbing up in the water when Rumpelstiltskin deigned to pet him with two fingers along the feathers of his neck. It was a rare thing when the master of the castle showed any affection to the creature, and Belle paused in her work to watch, entranced. The little dragon squawked, leaning into the touch, and Belle caught herself smiling, watching the Dark One so gently tending to the wee beast.  
  
“He grows,” Rumpelstiltskin said softly, a shy smile playing on his lips with as much fascination for the animal as she ever had.  
  
“Yes, so fast...” Belle trailed off, twisting her wash cloth so the dirty water was dispensed in her second bucket. She rolled her shoulders, primly straightening her back as she leaned forward. Seeing Rumpelstiltskin absorbed in the little dragon, a sudden rush of playful ambition took hold of her and, with a quick flap of her hand, sent a shower of water at both dragon and sorcerer with a giggle.  
  
Rumpelstiltskin sputtered, eyes screwed shut tight and his face pinching in distaste as if he’d caught something sour. He tossed his head, wiry curls fluffing about his collar. Wendell shook his wings and feathers, but in turn only flung more water in the Dark One’s face and caused Belle to fall back in a fit of laughter. Her master suddenly knelt over her as she was on her back, and she giggled, her voice trailing as her eyes shined with mirth, “Oh, I’m sorry... I couldn’t resist.”  
  
Anticipating his disdain, she warmed to see him smirking and bemused as he leaned down, nuzzling her warm neck where her hair kissed her ear. She shivered in delight when his lips plucked and nibbled, his hands dragging along the stone floor through the bubbly water that began to soak her dress, humming against her ear, “I don’t think I can either, little dove.”  
  
Belle caught her bottom lip between her teeth, shifting beneath him so she could slide her knees on either side of his hips. She gave a squeak of surprise when his cold, wet hands found warm thighs beneath her skirts, searching with a giggling grin for her primly tied bows that held her garters in place. “Oh-” she puffed, looking up to see him smirking so triumphantly and laughed, wriggling against him as he pinned her down, warm hands over soft wrists to stone. “That’s not fair, you’re having much too fun!”  
  
“What exactly did you expect, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin giggled, kissing down her throat, his tongue tickling her collarbone, “The monster in his dark castle is to have his way with you.”  
  
Sighing, Belle gently arched her lower back, sliding her legs closer around his waist. She smiled in satisfaction when she rubbed against his leather clad lap, seeing his shoulders shudder, his head dropping forward. Leaning up as much as she could while so warmly pinned beneath him, Belle brushed her cheek to his, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, “You won’t be the only one having fun.”  
  
His hands were more insistent then, his clever fingers loosening ribbons and peeling cotton and silk away. Belle gasped when her bare backside met the cold stone floor, but Rumpelstiltskin soothed the sting away as his hands smoothed up the back of her legs. She sighed softly, smiling and turning her head to the side, trying to watch him as he sat back and kissed the inside of her knee. With lazy contentment, Belle drew her laces of the front of her bodice loose, and her careful fingers playing with the fabric caught Rumpelstiltskin’s interest. He watched her hands hungrily as she let her gown fall open, the filmy white blouse beneath clinging to damp skin. As if the small gesture released something hidden between both of them, Rumpelstiltskin suddenly pressed himself impossibly close, his arms sliding beneath Belle’s back, hands cradling beneath her shoulders. Belle felt the same tenacity escape, and she found herself clutching at him, the little sorcerer and most powerful man in the world, her soapy hands tangling in his soft curls and her heels digging into his lower back to pull him forward.  
  
Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth covered her own, thoroughly drinking ever sigh and sweet noise until she was a limp, breathless thing in his arms, left content against the humidly wet floor, grinding damply against staunch leather. He answered with a hungry growl into the kiss, and his hand joined one of her own to help him unlace his breeches. Once loosened, they fumbled clumsily between them until he filled her with a closeness that knocked the breath from her body and sent her reeling into another world, bright and sparkling and so utterly delicious that her toes curled behind his back.  
  
Belle was only dimly aware of Rumpelstiltskin shaking his arm, having stopped his ministrations, and, through a fog, mumbled, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Damn dragon,” he muttered, and Belle peered around her shoulder to see Wendell tugging with the silk cuff of the Dark One’s shirt between his teeth. She shooed him with a hand, batting him back gently just as Rumpelstiltskin rocked forward, earning a throaty moan from deep within her chest. It was a prolonged, throbbing ache that he answered with slow thorough rocking, her sopping skirts sloshing against the stones as she responded with her own rolling hips to bring him closer, feet urging him tighter between her thighs.  
  
Belle pushed her head back against the floor, biting her lip against an embarrassingly needy noise of his name building in the back of her throat. “Rumpel _stilt_ skin-”  
  
Winding her fingers through his hair, enjoying how the wet, limp strands clung to his forehead, cheeks, and neck, she leaned up and sucked the water from his neck with delight as his rhythm quickened to the point that she gasped on every inhalation, between the insistent, raggedy thrusts that brushed near the sweet spot deep within that she hadn’t known before they’d made a rather clumsy find of it.  
  
A slight tickle at her ear suddenly broke her moan, and she squirmed with a laugh, cringing away, “Ah!”  
  
“Blasted beast- _away_!” Rumpelstiltskin hissed, buffeting the dragon trying to nuzzle its mother’s hair with his arm.  
  
Belle gasped indignantly. “Oh, be caref- _ful_...”  
  
Before she could get the words out entirely, she melted beneath him as he lowered his mouth to her breasts through the damp fabric of her blouse, quickly bringing her back into that pleasant lull of pleasure. His hands slid down her wet back to bunch her skirts at her hips, holding her in place as he buried himself completely in her. Belle’s eyes fluttered close, a shuddering sigh falling from her mouth as her feet came to rest behind his thighs encouragingly, liking it best when he allowed himself so close and so very deep, riding her until she had not a breath left to say his name.  
  
Belle was filled with him, his touch, his voice, his lips, and she couldn’t find it in herself to think of anything else. She could feel herself building to that adoring moment when he would shatter her world in bright, glistening shards of light that was both an aching agony and a melting goodness. Tightening her fingers in her hair, Belle nipped his neck affectionately, but before he could capture her lips in a kiss, she gasped, opening her eyes to nearly be face to face with her pet.  
  
“Wendell!”  
  
“ _Off_!” bellowed the Dark One, and with a throw of his arm had the little dragon skittering in a ball of scales across the floor. With another twitch of his magical fingers, he’d flipped one of the buckets over on top of the dragon, trapping him underneath.  
  
Belle gasped, blinking blearily aside, “Oh, but that’s so cruel!”  
  
“He’s fine,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered, burying his face in the crook of her neck, hitching her closer against him to fill her deeper. As if defiantly interjecting, the upside down bucket rattled against the stone floor, scraping loudly as the dragon beneath tried to escape. Belle stifled a laugh, wrapping her arms tightly about her lover’s neck as he took his pleasure, delivering hers almost in the same moment as his own. He sent her reeling, grasping at his shoulders and back weakly, convulsing in warm, wriggling joy as her insides shivered. With a last hungry thrust, Rumpelstiltskin joined her there, his arms and shoulders trembling in the effort to hold them both, choking on his own gasp.  
  
Belle bit her lip, pressing her cheek sweetly to his own, holding him close. Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin lowered himself until Belle was cradling him in her arms, both clinging to each other on the warm, damp floor. Belle would’ve been content to lay there all afternoon, even if it was wet and bubbly, but Rumpelstiltskin was ever so warm. Together they found their breath and hearts again, tenderly and shyly touching cheek, neck, chest, and waist in sweetness, and were only finally disturbed by the rattling wooden bucket bumping into the sideboard of the hallway.  
  
“Hellfire and damnation,” Rumpelstiltskin growled, lifting his head to glare at the offensive object.  
  
Belle giggled, shrugging herself up, a hand to his chest to lean him back. “He’s only a baby still, Rumpelstiltskin.”  
  
“A squalling, needy one at that,” the Dark One muttered, and, as he helped his maid to her feet, arranged their clothes with a wave of his hand. Belle sensed the reassuring laces tighten and her ribbons and lace adjust themselves once more. She smiled, enjoying the feeling of being dry once again, and turned on weak, watery legs to pad down the hall and lift the bucket off her pet.  
  
“One could say the same about you, you know,” Belle teased, warming when silk clad arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and his thin lips pressed a kiss to her ear.  
  
“I prefer to have your attention. Jealousy becomes me; makes me a difficult man to love,” he murmured, hugging her tightly.  
  
Wendell rubbed his face against her ankle, and she smirked, turning in his arms to kiss Rumpelstiltskin upon the cheek. “Not a monster?”  
  
At his astonished, befuddled look, Belle laughed again, shaking her head and gathered up her rag, brush, and buckets, darting around both dragon and sorcerer. Traipsing down the hall with a lightened step, she shook her head and smiled, “Oh, my boys.”


End file.
